No Rust Build Up
by Miss. RoseGold
Summary: She knew that he knew that she had taken the wrong cup.


**No Rust Build Up**

 **Summary:** _She knew that he knew that she had taken the wrong cup._

 **Authors note:** To celebrate my third anniversary on Fanfiction I've decided to indulge in my newest obsession _Heathers._ I love both the movie and the musical and don't have a preference on which universe this takes place in, I just love them both so much. Please enjoy.

* * *

Veronica stared down at the unmoving form of Heather Chandler for a long time.

It reality she knew it only had to have been about a minute or two at most, but it felt like an eternity to her as she tried and failed to get a grasp the situation that lay before her, surrounded by bits of the broken glass coffee table.

One thing was for certain though: Heather Chandler was dead. And she had killed her.

Okay, make that two things.

"Oh my god." She finally managed to croak after a moment, fisting her hands in her hair. "I've just killed my best friend!" she shrieked, clearly mortified by what she had done.

There was the tiniest pause as the trench-coat wearing boy behind her shifted his weight onto the other foot. "and your worst enemy." He added after a moments pause.

"Same difference." Veronica muttered as she shuffled closer to Heather's still body, mindful of the shards of glass that surrounded her. _Christ she had hit that table hard._

"Well… guess her hangover is cured." J.D. chuckled from behind her, causing her to glare viciously at him. He at least had the decency to wince. "Right, sorry, probably not the best time."

 _You think?!_ Veronica hissed at him in her head, but couldn't actually bring herself to say it out loud.

"Holy shit… holy shit… what the fuck… what the fuck am I going to do? I just killed her!" Veronica wailed, practically on the verge of tears as she frantically glanced between Heather's unmoving form and the cup still clenched in her hand.

"Well of you want my honest opinion, Heather Chandler was one bitch who needed to die – we just sped things up a little." J.D. shrugged as he laced his hands behind his head. Veronica gaped at him for a solid minute in shock before finally finding her voice.

"It's one thing to want someone out of your life, but it's another thing to serve them a wake-up cup full of liquid drainer!" she hissed as she began to pace frantically. "Fuck, what the hell are we going to do?!"

J.D. shrugged helplessly. "I'm more concerned about what we're we gonna tell the cops. Fuck it if she can't take a joke, Sarge".

Veronica instantly paled. "The cops? This is my life. Oh, my God. I'll have to send my S.A.T. scores to San Quentin instead of Stanford!" she groaned as she sat down on a stool by Heather's dressing table and buried her face in her hands. J.D. on the other hand was more interested by one of the magazines that had slipped off of the glass table and now lay on the floor next to Heather.

"Oh look," he flashed her a half smirk as he picked one of them up and showed it to her. "she was reading the "The Bell Jar."

"Yeah that's great J.D. but I don't exactly think that Heather is going to be finishing that anytime soon." Veronica muttered, still not looking up from her hands.

"No, no, don't you see? We can work with this." J.D. insisted, "We did a murder yeah, and that's a crime, but… what if we make it look like a suicide instead?"

Veronica peeked at him from the cracks in-between her fingers. "What the hell are you saying?"

"I'm saying that we make it look like she offed herself, and nobody will ever know we were here." J.D. replied smoothly. "You can forge her handwriting as well as your own, let's just make it look like she was depressed and she willingly drink the cleaner."

"That's sick." Veronica snarled. "I'm not doing it."

"Do you want to go to jail?" J.D. counted.

"Fuck no."

"Then let's do it."

Veronica bit her lip, but dug into Heather's dresser. Sure enough, she found a pen and note pad stuffed away in one of the top drawers. Clicking open the pen, she got to work creating the most convincing forgery she had ever created, with J.D. leaning over her shoulder the whole time, providing ideas on what to put in the note.

Finally, after ten minutes she decided that she was done. Ripping the sheet of paper off of the pad, she passed it behind her for him to read, her hands shaking uncontrollably as he proof-read it, before passing it back to her with a nod.

"Looks good," he praised, "that should fool the cops no problem."

"I fucking hope so." Veronica muttered as she slowly stood from the stool with the note in hand as she stepped around the shards of glass that surrounded Heather's cool body. The cup that she had given her caught her attention, and she stooped down so she could reach it.

Veronica picked up the fallen cup that lay innocently on the carpet beside Heather, as she placed the forged note in her hand. She glanced down at the remainder of the blue drain cleaner in the bottom and cringed.

"I can't believe I gave her the wrong cup." She muttered as she peered at J.D. out of the corner of her eye, only to see that he didn't look too torn up about it.

"It's like I said: Heather Chandler is one bitch who needs to die." J.D. said lightly, nudging her shoulder as he passed her. "Now come on. We gotta get out of here before the cops come."

His nonchalant words struck a chord in her as she looked back and forth from J.D. to the cup, before finally letting her gaze settle on him – the gears in her mind churning at full speed as she slowly started to put two and two together.

 _He came in_ after _she did, meaning that he had seen-_ she froze as dread started to creep up her spine.

The horrifying realization washed over her like a bucket of cold water. _He knew that she had taken the wrong cup. He had followed after her when she had taken the drain cleaner, and left the actual hangover cure behind. He had to have seen her take it – there was no way he could have missed it._

Veronica stared after the trench coat wearing boy as he opened the door to Heather's room and disappeared down the hallway.

 _He had seen her take the wrong cup and he had done nothing to stop her._

 _He had let her commit murder._

The thought was so twisted and revolting she fought back the urge to vomit. How he had just let her take the cup that he knew full well would ultimately lead to Heather's death, she did not know, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

She was starting to see now, that the inner workings of J.D.'s mind were not a pleasant place, and she idly wondered if it was too late to go back to her old life and pretend that she didn't know him.

Pretend that she didn't just murder her friend. Accident or not.

Pretend that she didn't know that she knew that he had let her take the wrong cup.

Her eyes narrowed at the thought. _she felt like absolute shit – no doubt about it –_ _but hell if she was going to jail for someone like Heather._

Veronica looked towards the door where J.D. had exited from. She might not have had any real love for Heather, but that didn't change the fact that her "beau" had willingly let her give Heather drain cleaner.

She knew that she would have to be much more careful around him from now on.

But no one could ever know what they had done.

"Ron? You coming darling?" J.D.'s voice echoed from down the hall, and she placed the empty cup back down beside Heather's cold body, as she straightened her shoulders.

"Yeah, coming." Veronica called back as she cast one final look back at Heather. She sent a silent apology to the body of the former demon queen of her high school and slipped out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Veronica allowed J.D. to guide her out of Heather's house in silence and let him walk her back to her home, all the while staring at the back of his head – hardly daring to believe that he had simply let her walk away with the liquid poison that had proved to be Heather Chandler's death – all without saying a single word of warning to her.

He said that he was "a no rust kind of buildup man" but she could already feel the rust that was starting to build up between them.


End file.
